As Good As It Gets
by quintessenceofstars
Summary: Addison hates ballet.


Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's or the characters in this fanfiction.

As Good As It Gets

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Addison sighed as she tugged on her ballet shoes and followed the other girls out to the middle of the studio. If she'd had her way she would be outside playing in the competitive soccer league with the boys in the field beside the dance studio. She wasn't the greatest dancer, and truth be told she absolutely hated it. Still, she couldn't do what she'd done when she was younger – rip off her leotard and chase the other girls around pretending to be a dinosaur. In fact, that was probably the reason she didn't have any friends in her class. That and the fact that all the other girls had severe mental problems (if you could consider ditziness and stupidity mental problems.).

"Addison!"

Addison snapped out of her reverie as the ballet instructor called her name. She sighed and tried to focus on the instructor, only to find her mind wandering moments later. She'd asked to be signed up for horseback riding lessons but her mother had scoffed and said it was a "boy sport", a statement to which Addison had rattled off enumerable names of females who indulged in equitation. However, one look at her mother's face had told her that if she were to pursue this she would most likely be banished to her bedroom and the lessons were never to be funded by her mother or father.

"Addison Montgomery, go sit by the door and I'll speak to you later."

Addison swallowed the intense urge to stick her tongue out and instead stalked to the doorway but when she got there, instead of folding her knees beneath her and sitting obediently, she kept going and marched to the change room. She stripped out of the black leotard and pulled off her leggings after her dance shoes, pitching all three items deep into her bag before pulling on the designer shorts no eight year old should never own and a ridiculously frilly short sleeved blouse.

She shoved the duffel bag under the bench and gave it a hard kick, anger still bubbling in the pit of her stomach (which, she might add, was considerably empty after her mother had insisted on salad for lunch after noting that that Addison had gained three pounds.). She slipped a hair elastic around her wrist and pulled on her shoes (she'd snuck normal running shoes into her bag after her mother had insisted on black patent leather Mary Janes) before running out the door, glancing at the clock before she ran out of the studio, reminding herself to be back by four.

There was a small dirt path running next to the parking lot that led directly to the outdoor soccer field and as she ran down it she was relieved to see that there were still about nine or ten boys around her age playing with a soccer ball.

"Hey!" She shouted, with a crooked smile and a wave, "Can I play?"

The biggest boy, a tall and stocky blonde, picked up the ball and stated, "You're a girl."

Addison simply stared back before sarcastically replying, "Thanks for noticing, can I play?"

He looked her up and down before shrugging and saying, "Fine, but you're not on my team."

She grinned again and expertly pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail before quipping, "Fine by me!" and running to the other end of the field. A couple boys offered her a smile but most of them glared at the bigger boy (whose name, she caught from another player, was Cole) who'd allowed her to play.

The game started again and Cole immediately took possession of the ball. Invigorated by her rebellion in the studio and still slightly riled up Addison took off, weaving in between players until she was right next to him and kicking the ball out from between his feet. Within sixty seconds she'd scored her team's first goal of the day and was greeted with surprised looks which were almost immediately exchanged for cheers of victory by her own team members.

Addison took a short victory lap before running back to her position and starting another play, quickly helping her team get a two goal advantage over Cole's. She watched his face grow pink and finally after a few more minutes he shook his head and said he was going home, picking up his ball and storming off in another direction.

Addison wiped sweat from her brow and frowned, brushing a wiry curl from her eyes, before collapsing in the grass and lying on her back, staring up at the sun. A few other boys slowly wandered home but several of them followed her lead and plopped down in the grass, breathing hard after a good game.

A particularly friendly boy with dark curls and a winning smile rolled over on his belly next to her and studied her with glinting blue eyes before saying,

"Hi, I'm Derek, this is Mark." He motioned to the boy sitting next to him who offered an amicable wave and smiled.

"I'm Addison." She replied with a grin.

He pulled a few blades of grass out of the earth and studied one for a moment before popping the white end into his mouth and chewing slowly,

"You're good at soccer." He stated simply.

She looked at him with a quirked eyebrow as he tugged another strand of grass out and stuck it in his mouth,

"What are you doing?"

He shrugged and rolled back over on his back, oblivious as his friend picked up one of the little aerated pieces of dirt (which Addison thought looked remarkably like dog poop, a statement which had earned her time in the corner and a scolding for not acting ladylike) and launched it in his direction. She scooted backwards to avoid being hit and chuckled as it hit him on the side of the neck, exploding into fine, dusty particles.

Derek jumped up and glared, grabbing a handful of the dirt pellets and launching them at Mark, who was laughing gleefully. Addison stood by the sidelines as several other boys joined in and warily watched the dirt fight until she was hit with a pellet and decided to join in, grabbing her own handful.

It was all in good fun until someone mistakenly picked up a stone and launched it, hitting Addison in the knee and making her grimace as she felt the sharp edge slice her skin. The boy immediately blushed and apologized profusely but Addison waved him off, it almost felt good to have a scrape on her knee – like she was a normal little kid.

Derek was the first one who came over as she sat on the grassy hill and squeezed the edge of the cut between her thumb and index finger, watching crimson blood pool over her skin. Mark followed behind, not incredibly interested in her cut knee but intrigued that a seven year old girl could sustain an injury without crying. Derek took her hand and pulled her upwards after wiping some of the blood off with the corner of his shirt,

"Come on, we'll go get a band-aid."

She followed, limping slightly and watching as blood continued to trickle down her leg, and the three of them made their way up a doorstep and into a house. A woman who looked remarkably like Derek wandered into the hallway,

"Mark, Derek? I thought you were...oh!" She broke off as she saw Addison's bleeding knee and said, "Wait here, I'll be right back."

She returned several minutes later and introduced herself as Derek's mother before asking for her name and what had happened. Derek interjected before Addison could reply, earning him a glare from the fiery redhead who bit her tongue before yelling that she was perfectly capable of speaking.

"Her name's Addison. Ryan threw a rock instead of dirt and it hit her knee."

She nodded, long used to messes and scrapes and wiped Addison's knee gently before smoothing polysporin over the wound and pulling out a large, square bandage that fit just perfectly. Addison smiled before hopping back up and testing out her knee,

"Thanks!"

Mrs. Shepherd smiled and closed up the first aid kit, "You're welcome. Now boys, I expect you to be back at five, and please be good."

Mark and Derek both nodded and beckoned for Addison to come with them before traipsing back out to the field. Addison had managed to look at the clock in the Shepherd residence and reluctantly said,

"Sorry, I gotta go. My mom will be waiting."

They both looked disappointed and Derek said, "Well, maybe you can come and play some time. We play here a lot."

Addison nodded, "I'd like that."

She walked ahead of them and waved back, smiling widely and shouting, "Bye!"

They shouted back and she turned around, jogging slowly until she reached the dirt path. She wiped her t-shirt and shorts, knowing that her mother was going to have a meltdown when she saw her attire, and wiped a smudge of dirt from her cheek. As she skipped back through the studio and grabbed her bag from the dressing room she caught the other girls' looks and eye-rolls, but she didn't care. She knew that after her instructor spoke to her mother it wasn't likely that she'd be returning and she'd made two friends today – all in all it had been a good day.

As she dragged her duffel bag behind her, into the waiting area, her mother caught sight of her and gasped,

"Addison Forbes Montgomery! What on earth have you been doing!?"

Addison simply tugged her bag up onto the seat and jumped up into the one next to her mother before saying,

"Miss Natalie needs to talk to you."

Her mother gave her a leery look and sighed, "Addison, what did you do?"

She swung her left foot back and forth, letting the right one rest (it was a little sore after all her running), and shook her head,

"Nothing mom."

Her mother blew out a frustrated sigh as she left Addison sitting in the chair and went to find her ballet instructor, muttering under her breath,

"I highly doubt that."


End file.
